


love always wakes the dragon

by havisham



Category: Original Work
Genre: Banter, Dragons, Large Cock, M/M, Non-Human Genitalia, Public Sex, Romantic Comedy, Sex Magic, Sibling Incest, Size Difference, Size Kink, Something Made Them Do It, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 17:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19067572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: Artamna submits to an ancient, poorly understood ceremony for the good of his kingdom, much to his brother's dismay. Together, they learn that fate isn't something that can be avoided, but it can be embraced, transformed and fucked with.





	love always wakes the dragon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heeroluva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/gifts).



The ceremony took place once every hundred years and so it was true that no one who had witnessed the last could tell them how it was supposed to go, how much was metaphor and how much, real. They only had the sacred texts to guide them and the texts were vague on several points, as ancient texts tended to be. The scholars of the kingdom had spent decades arguing over several different points in the text, with no true consensus growing among them. 

The only true thing that anyone could agree on was that first, the ceremony would have to take place, in the certain date and on a certain time, and second, that one of royal blood would have to be sacrificed to the gods, in order for the kingdom to continue on. 

Artamna had taken upon himself to go through with the ceremony that was required, upon which rested the survival of the kingdom. His younger brother, Kanva, had begged him to reconsider, to accept others’ offers to take his place, but Artamna had refused him. If the king's son was not brave enough to take his place on the Dragon’s Stone, what right did their family have to rule?

“You always go too far, Ara,” Kanva said, his face marred by a bitter frown. “We don’t know what the ceremony requires from you. You may die or be hideously transformed. Think of it -- how will we go on without you?” 

“I have confidence in you, brother, and everyone around you,” Artamna told him confidently. He reached out and tilted up Kanva’s chin, to admire the color of his eyes -- green and blue mixed together, brilliant against the brown of his face. They looked much alike, though Artamna was the son of the king’s first wife, and Kanva, the son of the chief concubine. The difference between their stations had never prevented their friendship or their love -- indeed, Artamna had always been Kanva’s champion and protector in all things. 

That was before the sweating sickness killed the rest of the royal family -- from then on, Artamna and Kanva had no one else to rely on. When Artamna was crowned king, it was Kanva who was by his side and that was where he belonged, as far as they were both concerned. 

This split between them over the ceremony was new and distressing, but Artamna could only hope that, in time, his brother would be able to see the wisdom of his actions. 

After all, he was doing it for him -- for all of them. 

*

The morning of the ceremony dawned hot and bright. The ablutions needed to prepare for the sacrifice were lengthy and elaborate. After a while, Artamna stopped paying attention to what part of his body was being scrubbed or plucked or polished. Once that was over, he was dressed in a simple white robe, his skin dusted with gold, and his curly hair threaded with flowers. 

Then came the long trek to the Dragon’s Stone. The stone loomed, black and stark, in the mountains that overlooked the city. The crowd was small -- few could make the perilous climb up -- but of them, Artamna felt confident that he was in the best condition. 

They tied him to the altar with strong ropes. 

The prayers were read and the invocations cast. 

Everyone waited for the magic to happen. 

Nothing did. 

*

Time passed slowly after that. The priests and the lay people waited awkwardly for hours before Artamna sent them home. His knights and Kanva stayed longer, despite Artamna telling them to go. They lingered even when he ordered them, but finally, it was decided. Artamna stood alone under the darkening sky. The stars came out, one by one. 

Artamna sat on the stone altar that his ancestors had carved and reflected that in truth, the ancients were a stupid, superstitious lot. He didn’t see how the kingdom would be saved by him sitting there. If his entire family save Kanva hadn’t died so suddenly, would he have accepted the premise of the ceremony so easily? Likely not. 

“Well,” he said to himself, “I’ll go down to the city tomorrow. It won’t harm me to sleep under the stars for one night.” 

But nights were cold in the mountains and Artamna was lightly dressed. He grabbed as many wreaths of the flowers within his reach to make a rough sort of blanket and fell asleep breathing in their fragrance. 

*

When Artamna awoke, the sky was still dark but someone was trying to loosen his bonds. He realized in the moment that that person was Kanva. “What are you doing?” he hissed, angrily. “I’ll come home tomorrow, you can’t ruin things just now.” 

“Artamna, look up,” Kanva said with gritted teeth. Artamna looked up. From higher on the mountain, he saw little pinpricks of light coming towards them at high speed. From the distance, it looked like fire -- it looked like dragons. 

“Amazing,” Artamna said softly. “I thought they were a myth. Kanva, stop that.” 

“Do you want to stay here and wait for the dragons to come here and fuck and then eat you? I’ve read the texts, Ara. That’s what happens.” 

“The scholars never mentioned that --” 

“The scholars are _fools_. I’ve always said that.” 

“This is no time for you air your grudge about the university, Kanva!” 

It was too late: the dragons were upon them. 

*

Artamna had grown up surrounded by dragons. The palace was decorated with dragons of all sorts -- an ancestor of his had been something of a world traveler, and had come back with many different types of dragons, in the form of scrolls and statues, paintings and tapestries. None of them looked like the creatures that now surrounded him and Kanva. They seemed almost transparent against the stars. Only their eyes seemed real: blazing white and red with fury. 

“So, the royal house seeks to break their faith with us?” said one dragon, floating above Artamna’s head. “Then, we shall rain destruction on the kingdom, as previously planned.” 

“There’s no need for that. I have not broken faith with you.” Artamna pushed Kanva away. “My brother was just leaving.” 

“I’m not going without you,” Kanva said, grappling with him for a moment. 

“Kanva, please --” Artamna said, exasperatedly. 

“I am impressed with your devotion,” said the leader. It seemed to Artamna that he said this sarcastically, but it was difficult to judge -- the tone of a dragon’s voice was entirely different than that of a human being’s. “If you truly wish to help your brother through this, it is far beyond me to stop you.” 

He leaned down and breathed on Kanva. 

They both cried out -- but there was no fire. For a moment, it seemed like nothing had happened. 

But then -- Kanva started to change. His skin split into scales and his body lengthened and broadened until he was nigh unrecognizable. His wings covered the both of them and Artamna realized at once that the only thing about his brother that had stayed the same were his eyes -- still green and blue and exactly like his own. Except those eyes were now split like a cat’s and the size of Artamna’s hand. They looked at each other and for a moment, Artamna thought Kanva didn’t recognize him. 

But then Kanva opened his mouth to show rows and rows of knife-like teeth. He leaned down and nipped lightly at Artamna’s bonds, releasing him. He was so much bigger than Artamna now that he could wrap his snake-like body around Artamna several times, and tried to do so while Artamna pushed him off. 

It was useless -- Kanva was much stronger than him now. 

Artamna gave up, and rubbed his hands against his raw skin and looked up at the other dragons. “What happens now?” 

“The ceremony, of course. You must reunite your kingdom with dragon-kind, as is the tradition.” 

“How can it be traditional between our people if only you know about it?” Artamna demanded. 

“It is not _our_ fault if _you_ forget,” said the leader. 

“Ara,” Kanva said. It was a struggle for him to speak, it was clear, but he managed it. Artamna rubbed the top of his head, like he often did when Kanva had been a child. “I can do it. For you.”

Then, louder, he said to the leader of the dragons, “I won’t eat him though.” 

“Who said anything about eating? Young one, your lust is easy enough to see. How long have you longed for this soft-skinned one?” 

Artamna felt his heart go still. Kanva was crouched over him and was quiet for a moment. Then, his words echoed in Artamna’s head. “Always. I have always loved him.” 

“Kanva, you know I love you best, changed though you are …” Artamna said, touched. Then, he gathered himself up and asked, “All right, so, how does one fuck a dragon?” 

“Optimistically,” said the leader, and smiled. His teeth were very, very sharp and looked like rusted blades. Artamna shook his head. He needed to stop thinking about how easily he could be eaten. The time for worrying about such things was long over. He needed only to think about the task at hand. 

He reached out Kanva and rubbed at his brother’s side. The scales gleamed against his hand, gold and red. Unlike the rest of the dragons, Kanva was solid, his sides heaving as he breathed. Artamna could wrap his arms around his brother, but just barely. Kanva was warm to the touch -- a blessing on a such a cold night as this. 

Artamna beckoned his face down and when Kanva did so -- he kissed him on the snout. “Don't worry about hurting me. It will be all right. I trust you.” 

Kanva breathed out and the air before him shimmered in heat. 

“Still, try not to burn off my hair, I like it.” 

“Shut up.” 

Artamna wasn't sure if dragons were the kind of engage in foreplay. It was obvious that Kanva ran hot anyway, and touching him seemed to excitement easily enough. Artamna too didn't seem to find getting aroused too difficult, for all that he was supposed to fuck his brother, a dragon, and in front of an audience. 

“Look at me only,” Kanva sternly and it seemed as if he would spread his wings to cover them from the other dragons. They, hearing Kanva’s words, laughed lightly. 

“How foolish you are, young one! As if we've never seen this before!” said one of them. 

“Then look away!” Kanva roared, a spout of flame appearing on his lips. 

“Kanva! Kanva! Look at me,” Artamna said, rubbing against his brother’s long neck. “Forget them. Look at me.” He pressed his lips against Kanva’s scales and waited until his brother had calmed himself. 

No one ever would accuse Artamna of being a romantic. If he had been told to fuck a dragon, he would do so in the most straightforward manner possible. He would first find a cock. He reasoned that the cock would be on the lower half of Kanva’s body and so ducked down to look for it. But the skin on Kanva’s belly was smooth, his haunches separating into two powerful-looking thighs, and legs below. 

“Kanva, help me find your cock,” Artamna demanded. “I’m just groping you pointlessly now.” 

“I can’t,” Kanva hissed back. “You have to seduce me first. That’s how it works, Ara.”

“I don’t want to seduce you, I want to make you come so these dragon ghosts can leave us in peace. _And you’re not helping._ ” 

And so Kanva did try to help. 

Dragons were, obviously, magnificent creatures, despite their propensity for breathing fire and visiting destruction upon innocent kingdoms. Perhaps, at one point, one of Artamna and Kanva’s ancestors had thought of this ceremony an appropriate way to satisfy such terrifying, but beautiful creatures. 

Artamna was prepared to accept that his ancestor had been a deeply perverted man. 

Kanva seemed almost content to wrap himself around Artamna, stroking his hair with his wing tips and letting his claws drag affectionately, but painfully, across Artamna’s ribs. Then, he lowered his head and his tongue, slippery and long, lolled out and wrapped itself around Artamna’s cock. Artamna started with an oath, but the tongue paid him no mind. 

In no time at all, Kanva’s tongue had made him almost impossibly hard. 

“Damn,” Artamna muttered as he watched Kanva’s tongue lick off the pre-come from his cock. Perhaps he wasn’t so different from that perverted ancestor of his after all. 

He found Kanva’s cocks a few minutes later. They appeared in the same place that Artamna had checked earlier, having sprung out when Artamna hadn’t been looking. Like a lizard’s, they forked apart and both were about the thickness of Artamna’s wrists. They seemed to grow in the viewing, spreading out across Kanva’s belly with insolent pride. When Artamna touched them, they felt spongy and wet, but they hardened to the touch immediately. 

“I think you see the issue,” said the dragon leader a little delicately. “The ceremony has always been a dragon that fucked a person, not the other way around.” 

“Ah,” Artamna said. 

“That’s right. I’m sure you’ll do well.” He was definitely being sarcastic there. 

Artamna wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We won’t know if we don’t try.” 

*

A dragon’s pre-come was slippery and wet and as Artamna tried his best to get Kanva hardened and open himself as much as he could, he thought, not for the first time, how absurd his life had become. He had never suspected that he would eventually find himself here: preparing to take a dragon’s cock -- twice. Kanva was useless, writhing and huffing as he was -- spurts of fire in between hissing Artamna’s name. 

“Artamna, I love you,” Kanva gasped as Artamna thought he’d used enough of the slippery dragon pre-come to loosen himself. Artamna winced. 

“I know,” he muttered. Experimentally, he grasped one of the cocks and fisted it, wondering if his preparations were enough. 

“Ara, let me lick you first,” Kanva said. Artamna, who thought he was beyond shame now, felt his face burn hot and red. He agreed, haltingly, that this would be a good idea. Artamna leaned against the altar as his brother licked into his ass. Kanva’s long tongue plunged into him eagerly, pushing deeper than anything had gone before. 

There was something in Kanva’s saliva that made Artamna want to die, or throw himself into Kanva’s knifesharp mouth. He couldn't understand it, or why it was affecting him now and not before. Perhaps Kanva’s fluids were leaking into him now, making him as stupid as prey. 

Finally, he could take no more. “Kanva, enough. I want your cocks.” 

Kanva shuddered and moved so Artamna could reach his left cock, belly up. A vulnerable position -- if Artamna had been a dragonslayer, he could have plunged a sword deep into his turmeric-colored belly. But instead, Artamna pressed the tip of Kanva’s cock against his rim and paused, prayed to every god he could remember, and pushed himself on to it. 

It went into him, inch by inch. It was maddening. It was painful and yet, the pain was distant, as if it was happening to someone else. The air itself seemed to simmer with heat and Artamna’s sweat and Kanva’s come made it harder to grab on to anything. 

Kanva’s other cock pressed itself against Artamna’s mouth and he opened it eagerly, sucking at with vigor. He couldn't fit it all into his mouth, but he made a valiant effort.

The first time he tasted Kanva’s come, it was like he was swallowing fire. It burned going in, and yet the more he tasted, the more he wanted to taste. Vaguely, Artamna knew that Kanva was moving ever so carefully, fucking him gently -- so as not to ruin, tear him apart, and yet -- now, it seemed unfathomable that Kanva should not ruin him. 

He couldn't make out the words with a month full of cock and yet he couldn't quite bear to let go. After a moment of struggle, he pulled away to gasp, “Kanva, harder. Fuck me hard. As your king, I command it.” 

In his heart of hearts, Kanva was both an obedient brother and a loyal subject. He would never deny his king. 

So, he ruined him -- upon request. 

*

It was not possible to gauge the amount of come that Kanva released, both in Artamna’s ass and in his mouth, and then sloshing down his back and front. When finally, exhausted, Artamna pulled away, he glanced downward to see a bulge on his normally flat belly and he could not possibly contemplate how it came to be. So, he didn't. 

The sun was stealing across the eastern horizon and Artamna collapsed against his brother. “Are you satisfied now?” he asked the dragon’s leader. 

“It was acceptable,” the dragon said. He seemed far more visible and solid now than he had been before. He was also so smug that it seemed to gather around him like a low-slung fog. “Well then, we will take the young one and go.” 

Kanva lifted his head. “What do you mean?” 

“You can't stay here,” said the dragon with a snarl. “What would you do?” 

“You could turn him back into a man,” Artamna protested. “How dare you try to take Kanva from me.” 

“Why in the world would I know how to turn a dragon into a man?” said the leader with a delicate yawn. “Can your wizards turn a man into a dragon?” 

“Just reverse the spell!” 

“Can't be done.” 

“Well, you're not keeping him. Kanva, let's go.” 

The dragon said with huff, “You may go now, but remember, young one, you will live long after your brother is dust. There is no place for you among humans anymore.” Then he and his followers flew away to the north, leaving behind only a smoky cloud to show that they had been there at all. 

Artamna wrapped his arm around Kanva’s neck. Quietly, he said, “Did you want to go with him?” 

“Are you stupid?” Kanva said angrily. “I would never leave you.”

“Even though I’ll die and leave you?” 

Kanva was silent for a moment before he sighed. “Who knows, perhaps this curse can be reversed. If not, then I will face what will happen, when it does.” 

“That’s the spirit. I’m very proud of you, Kanva. Even though you disobeyed me and brought this misfortune upon yourself almost entirely.” 

“Perhaps I should eat you after all.” 

Artamna sighed. He was absolutely filthy and wearing only rags. There was certainly no way that he could walk back to the city in this state. He looked at Kanva critically and asked if his brother could perhaps carry him on this back to the palace. 

“I can,” Kanva groused. “But you can’t start treating me as your steed, you know.” 

“Of course I know,” Artamna said, climbing up on Kanva’s back and sitting aside on him. His backside was still very sore, but he was not in as much pain as he expected. Perhaps some magic still lingered in this place, where a man could easily turn into a dragon. 

Perhaps their story was destined for a sad end and a long parting, but now as Kanva took wing, Artamna could only feel wonder and happiness. What a strange world to live in, and what a strange love to have! And yet, he was glad for both. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta! All credit to her on "How does one fuck a dragon?" / "Optimistically" quip. Made me laugh like a loon. 
> 
> TItle from [Richard Siken](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48158/litany-in-which-certain-things-are-crossed-out), for nostalgia's sake. 
> 
> No one asked the name of the leader of the dragon's name because they're very rude. His name is Auguste and he got what he came for, thank you very much. I got Artamna's name from [here](https://www.jstor.org/stable/596061?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents). It means "devoted to Divine law, observing Divine law." Which he certainly does. I think Kanva remains a dragon, because why would you change, really. He and Artamna update the ancient texts to make it VERY CLEAR what happens during the ceremony. The more you know ~
> 
> Anyway, looking up lizard hemipenes for this story at midnight on Saturday -- very much worth it. Thank you for readin'.


End file.
